Pure as the Lily (8 page)

groceries and her pay and hurriedly handed her mother the twenty-one shillings.

“Wait a minute! Walt a minute!” said Alice, as she went to hurry out of the room.

“You’re like a devil in a gale of wind.”

“Well’—Mary turned to her ‘you know I’ve got to get back as Mr.

Tollett’s going out. I’m taking over the shop, I’ve got to get back. “

“Taking over the shop! ... You! by yourself, and it Friday night, the busiest of the week? You, taking over the shop!”

“Yes me, Ma.” She took a step back into the room and poked her chin out towards Alice.

“And if he didn’t think I was capable, well he wouldn’t let me, would he?”

“Get out of me sight. When I’m properly on me feet, girl, you won’t cheek me like this. By God! I’ll take it out of you when I’m on me feet an’ can manage those crutches.” Mary stared at her mother and was on the point of saying, “You’ve got a surprise coming to you, Ma,” but she left it, there wasn’t time, and as Mr. Tollett said, “Meet trouble when it comes.” In the kitchen she hurriedly gave her father the half—crown and Jimmy the sixpence, and Alee, walking with her to the top of the stairs, asked, “What is it, lass?” Turning to him, her face straight, she said under her breath, “She’s got a surprise coming to her, me ma.

Mr. Tollett wants me to stay on, he doesn’t want her back.”

“He doesn’t!”

She was about to run down the stairs but was checked by the look of consternation on her father’s face.

Slowly Alee said, more to himself than to her, That’ll put the kibosh on it, it’ll break her up. “ She had thought her da would have been pleased at the news, but apparently he wasn’t.

“But you wouldn’t want to stay on in service, lass, if you could get something better, would you?” he said.

“It isn’t like service. Da, it’s like a holiday there, I like it.” wa. absent-minded movement he pushed her gently Ads the stairs, saying, “Go on; we’ll talk about it A. “

/ In the shop she went straight behind the counter. Ben had just finished serving a customer, and as the woman left the shop he looked at Mary and said, “Now you’re sure you can manage?”

“Yes, of course. I’ve done it afore, I mean serve.”

“Yes, but Friday night’s different. Towards nine you’ll be getting some of those scroungers in at the last minute. But remember what I told you, no tick, not a pen north to the Mulhattans, the Fawcetts, the MacMullens and the Romneys. If they see me going out you’ll bet your life they’ll be in here like a swarm of ants. But particularly kept a lookout for Hannah, Hannah Mulhattan. Don’t let her talk you round, because she’s got a voice like best butter. She still owes me four pounds ten. It was six pounds, and I wouldn’t really have minded it being eight if she had continued to bring her custom, but when she owed me three weeks’ bills and she walked down to Shields with her pay packet on a Friday night and never showed her face, and had the nerve to come in the following week....” He laughed now and, thumbing the counter, went on, “She put thirty shillings down there and in her smooth Irish way said, “ Will you take thirty shillings, Ben? “ Of course I said, “ Yes, and pleased to, Mrs. Mulhattan. “ And I took the thirty shillings, and I got her bill out and I said, “ Now that’ll leave four pounds ten between us.

“ I said it just the way she says it, you know?”

“I know.” Mary laughed at him.

“Well, then she said to me “ Can I have a few things in me basket? “ and I bent over, just like this’—he now demonstrated ‘and I said, “ Mrs.

Mulhattan, you can have your basket full to the brim and running over as soon as you pay me the four pounds ten. “ Well, I can’t go on and tell you, Mary, what she said to me after that because you’d be so shocked you’d pick up your skirts and fly up the street.”

“Oh, Mr. Tollett!” She laughed and tapped her hand

against his arm, then said, “Don’t worry, I’ll be up to her, and the rest. That’s Mrs. Mulhattan, Mrs.

Fawcett, Mrs. Mac Mullen and Mrs.

Romney? “

“Yes, that’s them. Anyway, I’ll go out the back way; the van’s in the lane, and I might escape their notice.”

Half an hour later she was in the middle of serving a customer when she heard his call from the storeroom:

“Mary, just a minute.” And she called back: “Be there in a tick, Mr.

Tollett. “

In the storeroom she stopped and stared at him and her mouth fell into a slight gape. He looked different. She hadn’t seen him dressed like this. He had gone out on a Wednesday dressed up, but then he had just had an ordinary suit on. Now he was wearing a dark grey suit that fitted him perfectly, a white shirt with a stiff collar and a grey tie. His shoes were black and shiny, and hanging loosely around his neck was a white silk scarf. And he tucked this in as he put on a black overcoat.

She wanted to say “Eeh! you look grand.” She had always thought he was nice looking, but now she saw he was good—looking, handsome. Again she could see why her ma compared him with her da and felt for him as she did.

“I’ll be back about eleven, perhaps before; I might get bored. Anyway, if I’m not back by half past eleven you’ll know I’ve got blind drunk and somebody’ll be carting me back.” He smiled a wide smile and his teeth looked whiter than ever against his tanned skin.

All she said to this was, “Oh, Mr. Tollett.”

“You never know, I’m let out so little that I just might get paralytic. Anyway’—his voice dropped ‘as soon as you close make yourself comfortable. I’ve left you some eats on the table, and I’ve picked out some records that you might like to hear. Put them on and enjoy yourself.” Oh. Oh, that’s nice. Oh, I’d love that. Oh thanks, Mr. Tollett. “ David’s sound, sleeping like a top. and there’s the bell. “ He pointed towards the shop.

“Bye-bye.”

“Bye-bye, Mr. Tollett. Enjoy yourself.”

I shall. “

“And’—she put her hand to her mouth as if she were calling him over a long distance and whispered ‘get tight if you like.”

“Thanks, Mary. Thanks’ Both laughing, he went out one way and she the other.

She was supposed to close the shop at nine but it was nearly twenty-past when she got rid of the last customer. As Mr. Tollett had said they had come swarming in at the last minute; but fortunately she hadn’t had to deal with any of the bad-debt lot.

She was tired when she got upstairs, and she flopped down immediately into an easy chair in the sitting-room. The curtains were drawn, the fire was blazing merrily, and the light was on. It had been nice of him, she thought, to leave the light on and nobody in the room. She looked towards the radiogram. There were the records on the side, and next to them a big dish of sweets.

She pulled herself up and walked over to the table and picked up the dish and exclaimed aloud, “Oh! a walnut cream whirl.” How did he know?

She had never told him that these were her favourites. Only twice in her life had she had a walnut cream whirl. She took the walnut off the top, then put it back as she thought. No, I’ll keep it for after; I’ll have a cup of cocoa and something to eat first. I’ll keep that for when I put the records on.

Her tiredness forgotten, she almost skipped into the kitchen, made herself some cocoa, put a slice of boiled ham between two pieces of bread, then sat down at the little table near the window to eat it.

She wouldn’t take it into the sitting-room, no, she didn’t want to make any crumbs there. When she was finished eating she washed her face and hands because she felt sweaty, and as she dried herself on the roller towel behind the door she turned her face to the side and looked in the little mirror hanging on the wall, Ben’s shaving mirror.

She stared at her face. Was she bonny? Men often

said she was bonny; not only her gran da and her da but Mr. Weir and Mr. Tyler and Mr. Knowles. If she passed them at the corner they would laugh at her and say, “By! you’re getting a bonny lass, Mary.” She liked it when they said that, although she would shake her head at them and say, “Eeh! Mr.

so-and-so.”

She went into the sitting-room again and looked at the records.

Ketelby’s In a Monastery Garden. Tchaikovsky’s The Sleeping Beauty.

The Blue Danube Waltz. Victor Silvester’s Dance Band. Oh, she’d put that on first, she liked him.

Oh lovely! lovely! The exclamation she made aloud covered both the whipped cream whirl and the music and as she bit through the hard chocolate and into the cream she waltzed: one-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three, and she laughed to herself as she went round the room, weaving in and out of the furniture. She loved dancing, she would love to be able to dance properly. She had once gone to a dance in the Catholic school rooms with Teresa Hewitt. It had been wonderful, she had really enjoyed herself, but her mother had found out, and that was that. Her mother couldn’t stand the Hewitts because they were Catholics; but then her mother couldn’t stand any of the families in the street, because she considered they were all common, except of course Mr. Tollett.

She had never been able to keep a real girl friend because she couldn’t invite her into the house; everybody in Cornice and Benbow Streets were below her ma’s notice. She wondered if her ma knew what the neighbours said about her because when she was having one of her yelling matches she sounded as common as muck herself.

Da-da-d’dah, d’dah, d’dah! Oh, this was lovely: a big warm room lit by a pink-shaded light, and wonderful music, and a chocolate cream whirl.

She licked her fingers, then ran swiftly into the kitchen and wiped them on a flannel, and ran back into the room just as the record was finishing.

She played four records and danced to them all, even to A Monastery Garden. Then, her legs feeling tired, she decided to have a bit read. The bookcase presented an assortment of literature. The top shelf showed her books by Ethel M. Dell, Elinor Glynn, Ruby M. Ayres and many others. The next two shelves, the books were thicker and heavier looking.

There was some by Dickens. She knew about Dickens, she had learned about him at school. She didn’t care much for Dickens;

it was the pictures in the book that put her off. The other names were new to her: Thackeray, Conrad, Conan Doyle, Edgar Wallace. Oh, she had heard of him. But she didn’t think she’d like to read any of these.

She reached up to the top shelf and picked out The Way of an Eagle by Ethel M. Dell. Then she settled herself in the armchair with the dish of sweets to her side, and she was just getting interested in the story when suddenly, the book dropped from her hand, and she put her head back in the corner of the chair, and slept. , It was a noise from the street that woke her, boys running and yelling as they kicked a tin. She sat up with a start and looked at the clock.

Half past ten. Eeh! she must have fallen asleep. She felt very tired.

She stretched and yawned, then got up and replenished the fire, after which she made herself a strong cup of tea. She didn’t want to be asleep when Mr. Tollett came back, he would think it had all been too much for her. She dabbed her face with cold water, nipped her cheeks to bring more colour to them, which was unnecessary, put a comb through her hair, then went back into the room and put on another record. She had picked The Blue Danube Waltz again.

Slowly now she began to dance, but just backwards and forwards in front of the gramophone.

When the arms came about her and she was swung round and into the waltz, she stifled her scream.

Then, to the beat of the music, she gulped, “Oh! Mister Toll-ett. Mister Tollett!” Da-dad’dah, d’dah, d’dah! “ Ben sang as he waltzed her round the couch, in between the chairs, around the occasional table and back towards the couch, and when the record ground to a halt she gasped again as his arms tightened round her in a vice-like grip, and for a second she was pressed close to him, her cheek to his cheek, his lips near her ear. Then she was standing an arm’s length from him, where he had thrust her, and, her breath almost choking her, she gaped at him. He ... he was tight, she told herself, he was tight.

“Oh Mary! I’m sorry, b-but, you see you’re to blame. I did what you told me, I got tight, I’m, I’m not drunk, not real drunk, I... I didn’t stay long enough, I thought I’d better get back while... while I could.”

“Did... did you enjoy it, Mr. Tollett?”

“Yes, and no, Mary. Yes and no. And Mary.” He lurched towards her now and caught hold of her hands again and stared into her face.

“Don’t call me Mr. Tollett. I’ve wanted to tell you for, for weeks not to call me Mr. Tollett. Ben, call me Ben. Go on, say Ben.”

“Oh Mister....” She shook her head and laughed with a nervous laugh, then said, “Ben.”

“That’s better.”

As she gazed into his face she felt her legs begin to tremble as if she had been running for a long time.

His eyes were bright and dark.

The look in them was deep; it was a look she had seen before but it was much deeper now. She tried to stop the trembling creeping up through her body. She said, “Thank you. Thank you for the sweets, an’... an’ I loved the walnut cream whirl.”

“Aw! For God’s sake, Mary, be quiet! ... Thank you for the walnut cream whirl!” He gave a quick, impatient toss to his head, then bringing his face close to hers he murmured, Don’t you know I want to give you things, haven’t you seen it? Oh my God, Mary! “ She couldn’t stop him. She didn’t know whether she would have if she could, but he was on his knees before her, his arms were around her thighs, his head was pressed into her waist, and his voice sounded as if he were actually

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crying when he muttered, “Aw Mary. Aw Mary, don’t you know, I love you, girl? I love you ... I love you.” Each time he said ‘love’ he pressed his head hard into her waist.

“I’ve been driven nearly crazy these past weeks ... haven’t you seen? Aw Mary!” He now raised his face and looked up as he said softly, “Don’t be afraid. Don’t be afraid of me. Please don’t be afraid of me, Mary.” Her bottom lip trembled as she said, “I’m... I’m not.” And she wasn’t afraid, even while she was. She couldn’t understand herself. Mr. Tollett was telling her he loved her and . and he was right in what he said, he had been telling her that for weeks and she hadn’t let herself catch on. That had been the look in his eyes. Her breath was pushed out of her body when he again pressed his head into her, and his words were muffled now as he groaned, “I love you, Mary. Oh God! how I love you.